Because You Asked
by cocoidie-18
Summary: Sequel to One Simple Wish. In the aftermath of Ron's reluctant plot, both Ron and Draco must deal with the consequences. They must work together if Draco is to survive. But can he really trust Ron, best friend of his most hated enemy, with his life?


_Harry was blaming himself, another life caught in the crossfire of his battle. Ron opened his mouth ready to tell him it wasn't his fault but the words stuck fast in his throat. He couldn't reassure Harry when he couldn't bring himself to face what he had done. It would be like admitting it was his fault. Yet another steaming pile of guilt settled on his shoulders. Sarah was dead and he'd killed her. And he couldn't tell anyone…_

Because You Asked

Chapter 1

Ron had never been much of an actor. It was why he had gone to such lengths, done and said the things he did when he had been trapped in Draco's life. It was also why he attended Sarah's funeral. He had been unable to get out of it.

He survived. Despite how much he wanted to walk out of there he stayed. Even though Sarah's father's eulogy had become a bitter cry for revenge, he had sat frozen as he watched Sarah's mother tug her husband back to his seat. Even though the rest of the service was lost on him as he stared at the back of his victim's father's head as he and his wife sobbed, their arms around each other. He felt numb, stiff and distant from everyone, surrounded by those mourning Sarah's death he felt utterly alone.

He locked himself away in his mind to protect himself and didn't hear his friends' attempts to talk to him. Not until Harry put his hand on Ron's arm and gave him a hard shake.

"Ron, what's the matter with you? Have you heard a word we've said?"

Harry frowned as Ron finally seemed to be looking at him. It was like Ron was looking through him. His eyes seemed empty. "No."

"No, you haven't heard us?" Harry asked. Ron was staring at the front again. Harry waited for reply that didn't come before reaching out and touching Ron's arm again.

On contact Ron replied, "No, I wasn't listening."

"Why, what's wrong? Ron? Ron!" Harry hissed but Ron pulled his arm out of Harry's grasp and continued to stare straight ahead.

His eyes felt sore and tired but he wouldn't blink, not until his eyes defied him and did it on their own. Every time he closed his eyes, even for the split second it took to blink, flashes of memory assaulted him like lightning. The fear that was frozen on Sarah's face, Lucius Malfoy's surprise as he dodged the curse, the looks of horror and grief on his friends' faces but most of all the look on his own face, then Draco's, haunted him.

What about Draco? The consequences of his actions started to dawn on him and he paled. No one had seen Draco since they had switched bodies back and Ron cursed himself for not realising sooner. His robe snagged on something and as he pulled it free, he slowed for a second but did not stop as he realised the snag had been Harry's hand trying to stop him as he ran from the ceremony. He couldn't remember standing. The memory of killing Sarah was still a horror he could not deal with but worse than that was the realisation that no matter how much he hated Draco he could not let him take the blame for what he had done. He had known all along Draco would be blamed, he could admit to himself no matter how reluctantly that he did not care if Draco went to Azkaban in his place, but he had lived Draco's life, he knew what he went through at home, and worst of all, he remembered who was his intended target. He had tried to kill Draco's father! Lucius Malfoy would think his son had tried to kill him. Ron had to make sure that the Aurors got to him first.

~*~*~*~*~

Co-incidentally at that moment Draco was also cursing Ron, and for the same reason. He was dressed in Muggle clothes trying to blend in as he lurked outside the men's wear store he had bought his suit. The price made up for the slightly loose fit. When he had woken in his own bedroom his first thought was of Ron and what the idiot had done. It tempered his joy at being in his own body, which was his third thought. His second… he wasn't ready to contemplate. He needed to get somewhere safe before trying to navigate the jumbled maze of his feelings. It had not taken him long to realise he was in danger. He knew every nook and cranny of Malfoy Manor so getting out unseen was no real feat. A house elf did see him but they didn't count. He had taken his broomstick and flown to London wishing he could apparate but he still wouldn't be able to learn until his next year at Hogwarts. It was unlikely he'd ever see his next year at Hogwarts. Once in London he had travelled straight to Diagon Alley and Gringott's Bank. Taking more then he could carry from the family vault and converting half of it to Muggle money. So on top of a large money pouch full of galleons in the bag full of clothes he had just bought, he had a still considerably large wad of paper money in his pocket. He had to admit Muggle money was an awful lot more convenient to lug around.

Draco looked around nervously. He felt paranoid; every passer-by seemed to be an Auror in disguise. He had nearly stunned a woman for looking at him strangely but had realised in time that her look was directed behind him at the man going an extraordinary shade of red as he waited for Draco to move out of the doorway of the store and let him pass.

Now he stood in the middle of the footpath ignoring the pedestrians forced to go around him at a loss for where to go. He didn't even contemplate going home, he couldn't go to Professor Snape, Draco trusted him to a certain extent but he was still a Death Eater. He couldn't go to the Aurors because they thought he'd killed Sarah. He couldn't trust any of his friends, they'd sell him out without hesitation. There was only one person who he knew must help him, the bastard sure owed him but the thought made him grimace. He really didn't want to go there but what choice did he have? He was Draco's only hope, pathetic as that was. His mind made up Draco slowly walked back to the alley he had left his broomstick in. Though he had made his decision, he really wasn't eager to put his plan in action.

The dirty alley was dark still even though it was late morning. In the sudden gloom, Draco was temporarily blind a pain in his leg and metal clang revealed the location of the garbage can he had leant the broom next to.

"Damn it!" Draco cursed, rubbing his leg as he reached out and ran his hand along the brick wall until his hand knocked the handle of his broomstick. It fell, bouncing off his head to rest on his shoulder. "Oh-"

An hour later Draco dissolved the disillusionment charm he'd placed on himself. He stood behind a tree and studied the house, it seemed deserted. Cautiously he approached, ready to run at any sign of movement. He sighed in relief once he was certain the house was empty. The door was unlocked so he let himself in and headed upstairs. He reached his goal and paused. He hadn't eaten yet that day and it was just after midday. Going straight to the kitchen he hunted around and found leftovers of some kind that didn't look too challenging to the imagination. He was still eating when he heard the door slam. He froze following the sound with his eyes as the footsteps hurried past the door and up the stairs. Draco took a last mouthful of the food and left the kitchen. He crept towards the stairs placing his feet carefully and winced as with every step the floor creaked. A curse sounded from upstairs and Draco smiled. He bounded up the stairs noting that ironically he made less noise when he wasn't trying to be silent and kicked open the door that stood ajar. The rooms occupant spun around fear written all over his face. Once he registered who it was, his expression turned to disbelief.

"Bloody hell!"


End file.
